


King Takes Knight

by Serena_Rose



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Angst, Captivity, F/M, Feelings Realization, Friendship, One-Sided Relationship, Self-Hatred, Torture, Whump, forced silence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serena_Rose/pseuds/Serena_Rose
Summary: After rescuing Janet at DemonCon, not everyone makes it out of the Bad Place safely.
Relationships: Janet & Michael (The Good Place), Michael (The Good Place) & Eleanor Shellstrop, Michael (The Good Place)/Eleanor Shellstrop, Team Cockroach - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Needs of the Many

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in short chapters on Tumblr as a quick whump fix. Not as wordy as my other works but I wasn't expecting much of a plot after the first part, it just sorta happened. No, I'll never be done with TTDS fics.

His wrists are bound together behind his back, chains clamping tight around his skin, looped to a stake on the stage. He’s constantly hanging forward, feet impaled into the wood by rusty nails. The laughter had rippled around him when those had been hammered in, slow as fork, half a minute between each pound to give Michael a chance to appreciate the pain. Enough time for everyone to enjoy his groans.

At first he’d done his best not to give them the satisfaction. Demons fed off the sounds of misery. No, seriously, it’s like a vampire feeding off blood. It’s like their own crack cocaine. Michael had grown tired of the ‘kick’ many centuries ago. Why him? Why none of the others? Oh, right, of course. That’s the whole reason he’s here. It’s why he’s now the main, impromptu, attraction at this DemonCon.

He’s a freak.

That was always a fact, as much as he had tried to hide from it. Demons don’t collect human objects for a hobby unless its teeth or kidneys. Demons don’t binge watch human TV shows to help them fantasise about what it would be like to live the way they do, up above on Earth in the fresh air, with dating and parties and their own laugh track. Demons don’t get tired of what they were designed for; torture, maiming, eviscerating. For so long he told himself, _It’s just a phase, a hyperfix, it will be pass, I just need something new…._

The psychological experiment had worked. Until it hadn’t.

Now here he was. Still a freak, to them, more so than ever. He has no intention of running from it anymore. Not that he’ll be able to run or walk for a while now.

Sometimes they loosen the chain and one of them will yank it, making him crawl. Typically after they’ve smashed a broken bottle on the floor, open palms falling onto the scattered shards, trousers tearing at the knee as they cut in deep.

He’d barely felt anything the first time he’d noticed the crimson pooling beneath him. He had already worked out that they’d done something to heighten the pain receptors in his skin suit. But how could he have blood?

 _“Just an illusion, you tuft of pubic hair.”_ Shawn had snarled at him, disgusted at the curios look on his prisoner’s face; _“You don’t get to have blue goo like a true demon. You’re an abomination. A holy spawn of Nothing.”_

He’d have tried to give a snappy comeback, had they not threaded a steel wire through his lips. Michael almost took it with pride; as if Shawn was afraid to hear him talk after he’d given his speech before. Clearly it had him worried that he was losing control, that there may have been demons listening who agreed with him, who were believed it was time to change. Maybe Michael wasn’t the only freak. A small, foolish part of him held out hope it would be one of them who would try to free him.

Nothing yet. Maybe all his words fell on deaf, wicked ears. Maybe they had considered it, for a moment, before distracted by the new attraction of a Michael piñata to play with.

The remainders of his suit stick to burned, bruised and bloodied skin. His jacket is gone, one of the Trolls borrowed his bow-tie to use as a handkerchief so he doesn’t expect to see that again given their snot is acidic. He knows they’re working their way up to the penis flattener. Just his luck, he was just starting to get used to the weird hanging bits, even having the odd fantasy of how he might be able to use them…and now it seems the first bit of action they’re going to get is being slammed with a mallet. If given a choice, he might prefer to try the butthole spiders.

His vision fades in and out after taking several punches to the head from one of the Rock Giants. He’s sure his eye nearly popped out of its socket and his jaw is broken, barely held together by the metal in his lips. They all chant their names at him. Not just freak. Traitor. Weakling. Disgrace. Failure. Hopeless. Loser.

They want tears. They want him to break.

But he’s never felt more strong in his life…at least, for now.

He closes his eyes, swaying in his bonds, head rolling as the pain thumps through his skull. He can still hear Janet screaming his name. Her magnet-bound hands reaching out for him. Jason’s hands on her arms, his distraught face looking past his not-a-girlfriend as Michael shoved the handcart away as soon as the guards caught up with them.

_“GO! NOW! DON’T COME BACK! DON’T RESET! JUST GET OUT!”_

It was one of them or all of them. It had to be him.

This was all his fault, after all. Janet had been taken because he’d been foolish enough to underestimate his former colleagues. They’d failed to notice the imposter among them because Michael was too busy keeping all his anxieties over his own potential double to himself. Had he just told Eleanor and the others the truth about Shawn’s call from before the experiment, the reason for his ‘breakdown’ from the start, they might have known something was up. They might have known better than to let Janet get on that train alone. 

He might not have let everyone down.

_Her hand grabs his wrist as they leave Mindy’s. He says nothing as Tahani and Jason continue to walk on ahead._

_He turns around._

_“Listen…about last night.” Eleanor looks up at him, taking a deep breath. He can see that she’s slept very little between the few hours they took to rest up and prepare for this journey, “The whole….trust issue dealy. I just wanted to say-.”  
_

_“It’s okay.” He raises his hand; “You don’t have to apologise.”  
_

_She blinks at him._

_“Uhmm…Good, because I wasn’t gonna.”  
_

_Michael’s mouth forms a silent ‘Oh’. Why had he been expecting that?_

_“I meant what I said, dude. I don’t know if I can ever trust you.” She tells him, straight; “I believe that you’re Michael and not Vicky, you proved that much. But, like I told Tahani, even if it is you, I don’t fully trust you. You know why right?”  
_

_He swallows, looking down at his shoes; “The lying…I know.”_

_He doesn’t try to excuse himself anymore. It was bad. That’s all there is._

_“Not just the lying but the lying about the lying!” She berates him; “It has to stop! And don’t get me wrong, the whole offering to sacrifice yourself thing, that’s done you credit. I need you to keep that shirt up. I need to be sure that you understand how important this whole show we got going on is. Whole of humanity is riding on us beating Shawn and those goons. It’s more important for us to win this than worrying about just any one of us. Got it?”_

_He nods. Of course he’s got it. Does she still consider him a liability? Would she have preferred it if Jason hadn’t interrupted his attempt earlier?_

_No, he tries to reassure himself. She’s not being mean. She’s being a leader._

_And she’s right._

_“Got it, Boss.” He tells her, quietly, the shame still burrowing deep in his chest.  
_

_She gives him a small smile and bumps his arm with her first; “There! Glad we got that settled. Look, I just want my partner in running-fake-Heaven back at my side is all. Not hiding things from me or putting me through crab like you did last night.”_

_“I understand. I’m sorry.” Was he unreasonable to hope for an apology back?  
_

_He’ll never understand what it means to be human, he realises sadly._

_“Apology accepted. Now go bring back our favorite not-a-robot or I’ll be demoting you to my personal shrimp-serving butler.” She teases with a twinkle in her eye as they continue their walk to the train station.  
_

Michael laughs to himself, spluttering droplets of blood from his encased tongue, as her words ring in his ears. He hopes they win. He hopes he gets to see his friends one last time before they go to the Good Place, the real one, and he’s sent to…wherever. Hopefully somewhere nicer than here.

The more time passes, the more he’s beaten and scalded and whipped, the more he knows Janet has obeyed his request. They haven’t gone to the Judge. They’re carrying on the experiment, best as they can, with Chidi as their best chance to succeed as one of the subjects. He hears Shawn muttering one time about the train tunnel having mysteriously caved in.

Well done, Janet, old friend. Or was it Jason with his last molotov?

He knows they can do it without him. He believes in nothing else in this world except his incredible friends and their ability to save the forking world. 

They don’t need him…They have each other. And Eleanor.

His girl from Arizona. The only one who can take charge of this. The one who knows what is at stake and what needs to be done. There’s an odd tightness in his chest, which may be from where his fake ribs were crushed earlier, but may be something else. He can’t deny it…He misses being at her side, he misses watching her take charge, of being on her ‘team’, her…partner. Fork it, he doesn’t want to be sad about it. He doesn’t want to…

It’s his own fault that’s over. _You ruined everything, y’know that?_

“You’re thinking of her, aren’t you? Your favorite yellow cockroach.” Shawn whispers, appearing as a blur in the corner of his distorted eyesight; “Funny how they haven’t come for you. You and that idiot came for your Good Janet. But their own pet demon? So much for human friendship, huh.”

He closes his eyes tight. He doesn’t…want them to come.

His hair is grabbed, head pulled back, a small block of freezing ice pressed against his stomach. He moans into the wires. His natural fire-element essence is violently reacting to the cold. It’s worse than a thousand volts of electricity. 

“They left you, Mikey. They abandoned you to us.”

N-no…He chose to stay….He made them g-g-go…

“ _And don’t get me wrong, the whole offering to sacrifice yourself thing, that’s done you credit. I need you to keep that shirt up…”_

And he did.

_“It’s more important for us to win this than having to worry about just any one of us. Got it?”  
_

Got it.

That’s why they haven’t come. They can’t throw away the progress they’ve made just to save him. They need to see it through till the end now. That’s all it is. Eleanor understands, he’s sure of it…It’s not because they don’t care…

The chill seeps into him. He feels parts of his goo crystalize sharply.

_“I don’t think I can ever trust you.”  
_

_“Why don’t we just lock you up in Janet’s void?”  
_

_“Get out of here. You don’t get to be part of this.”_

As the agony shoots through him, he blinks and he sees her. Staring at him. Uncertain, afraid, but silent. Complicit in his fate, if it’s for the greater good. No longer hers to worry about. No longer a distraction from what’s truly important - _would she react the same if it was Chi-?_ No, stop it! Don’t! 

Shawn moves away with the ice block and Michael sags against the stake.

“Ahh…Would you look at that.”

A finger reaches out to graze Michael’s cheek, picking off a tiny frozen droplet on his cheek. Fork. How long had he been crying? He didn’t want to give them that satisfaction!

Shawn puts it between his lips and smiles; “Mmmm, not bad. Not as salty as human tears. Let’s see if I can get you to fill my glass.”

Michael glares at him now, shaking roughly. Shame quickly simmers into a flash of rage before his old boss slams the ice block against him again. He screams.

Fork, fork, fork. This has to be worth it.

If it’s the only way he can prove, without a doubt, he’s on their side…That he wants nothing but to be worthy to be her ‘partner’ again…To be wanted…Forgiven?

Win, you guys. If he can ask for nothing else, do this for him. Please, damn it…Win.


	2. An Offer from Old Friends

He starts to wish he’d never seen the sun.

It wasn’t as if he had any idea what he was missing for the first few billion years before he was allowed to visit one of the Bad Janet constructed neighbourhoods. He can still remember looking up at the vast, azure expanse with that strange but beautiful yellow orb bearing down from above. He remembers the feel of the warm rays on his body for the very first time. It had been wonderful enough for him to block out the screams of the souls of the Island Of Flesh-Eating Giant Lobster hell.

It’s always dark here. And cold. He’s never been able to like the cold, or snow or ice, or any subzero weather conditions that didn’t agree with his naturally volcanic essence. 

His bound wrists chafe against the ice-encrusted shackles as he shivers. Tiny icicles hang from his nose and the corners of his sealed lips.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to escape it all. Not literally, of course. There was no chance of that. No chance of a daring rescue. He’d done this for the purpose of letting the ones he cares about get away. For them to continue this experiment without him running the risk of messing it up again, or putting them in danger with his constant breakdowns and weaknesses. This, staying behind, giving Shawn a toy to play with to distract him from being eager to meddle with them again, this was the best thing he could do. The best way to prove his loyalty.

_About the most Michael thing you can do._

He tries not to think that his friends, his…well, what he’d once considered the closest to family, have no way of trusting him unless he’s throwing himself under a proverbial trolley. That’s what happens when your first interaction with them is three hundred years of memory wiping and deceit. You reap what you sow, Mikey boy.

They removed his socks. Why of all things, beyond the rusty nails and wired jaw and freezing torture, losing his striped socks seems to hurt the most?

He tries to think of warm food. That weighted blanket Tahani let him try out once when he stayed late at her house once, discussing who they would put in their top five celebrities they would both most like to torture (purely hypothetical). He remembers how Jason taught him to make Flaming Cocoa - that’s a hot chocolate, except you set the marshmallows on fire. He tries to imagine what a slumber party would be like….Until he remembers the look Eleanor had given him when he’d tried to suggest such an idea. 

He had tried to escape, in a way, attempting to binge watch a series in his head. He could finally give Will and Grace a try….until one of the Bad Janets sensed what he was up to and made the temperature plummet, sending a frost throughout the empty theatre that was now his prison.

It’s hard to do the bare minimum of his abilities when he’s frozen stiff. Hard to think of his friends, of his hopes for the future, anything except the pain they’ve left him with. It’s as excruciating as when it’s happening.

The lines on his back continue to throb, agony intensified by the cold. There’s too many whipping marks to count, most of them meshing over previous ones, everyone who had filled the seats invited up on stage to have a go at lashing the Dirty Traitor. There was barely anything left of his shirt on his back, what remained now stuck on with the blood of previous, untreated wounds. At least this suit can’t get infected, he thinks with a grunt, the weakest attempts at gratitude.

The door opens and he starts, head staying down.

Is the show starting already?

There’s a click-clack of heels along the floor. Michael closes his eyes. Could it be…? Janet? Did she return? Bad Janet’s barely walk anywhere…neither does his Janet but she might be trying to sneak….He struggles to not let more crystalised tears fall as the hope of rescue overwhelms him.

It’s worsened by a palm on his cheek.

“Hey, Mike…” a familiar voice.

He dares to look up, seeing Val hovering close, kneeling down to meet his eyes. What is she doing? Is she here to ‘warm him up’ like some of the others do? He bet Vicky will be eager to have her pound of flesh once she’s grown out of the slug monster stage.

“Here, let me, pal.” She uses a tiny pair of pliers to cut through the steel in his mouth.

He grimaces, moaning a little at the way his lips burn after who knows how long of disuse. This. This is wrong. She shouldn’t be doing this, he suspects. He can see how nervous she is. What’s her game?

“Mike, listen…” Val tries; “We’ve known each other for a long time, before all this nonsense, haven’t we? I watched you climb that ladder and I always tried to look after you…But then you went completely nutso, throwing everything you had away for those…”

He looks away. This, again. He’s sick of trying to explain it to them. Fork, he wouldn’t have been able to explain it to himself a few hundred years ago.

“All Shawn wants is for you to admit you were wrong. Let him have his fun by seeing you grovel and ask to come back…And then this will be over.” She tries to encourage, “I know he’ll get over it if you just stop all of this. Come back to our side, where you belong…Please.”

He stays silent. Sure, she may have been polite to him, even pleasant to talk to. But he knows that none of them were true friends. 

If he’d listened to her in the first place, refused to rock the boat and shake things up, he’d have never have met…

“Mike, I really don’t enjoy seeing you like this.” She whispers; “I’m trying to help you here. You’re not a bad demon, pal, you just…lost your way. It happens. Okay, not to anyone I know, but…This doesn’t feel right. Humans are the ones who should get tortured, not us. We shouldn’t do this to each other. I…It’s weird, but I watch them pour the scorpions over you and I feel-.”

“Don’t.”

His voice is scratchy. Quiet.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Val.” He hisses, not meeting her gaze; “This is what I deserve. What we all deserve. You should be envying me right now that I get to pay my dues for the things I’ve done…The things we all did for all those years without giving a crab…Without bothering to care for the misery we caused. The humans never deserved what we did. We do.”

A flicker of the passion remaining inside him lights up again, warming his way to endure through the chill.

“Retirement is too good for us. Death is too merciful. I deserve this…” Michael whispers, resolute.

Val sticks her tongue to the side of her mouth.

“Is that what your new cockroach buddies taught you?”

He flinches at her insult of his friends, even if he had used that term so often before. Maybe because there is a slight truth to it…Not that any of them, especially Chidi, said that torture was ever a justified punishment. But he would never have known the wrongs he had committed if not for all those ethical lessons. The guilt had been building for years since then, first as a motivator to change his ways, then hovering over him like a constant dark cloud until it came crashing down from above, suffocating him.

“Is that why they haven’t come for you? Because they prefer you to be here?” She continues to ask.

“Get out…” She doesn’t understand. She never will.

As an Earth prophet with pointy ears once said, needs of the many outweigh the few. Or the one. Or the demon.

Val gives a heavy sigh and threads the wire through his mouth again.

He can’t do more than whimper as it pierces the tender flesh as she tightens it once more.

“I tried, old friend. You can’t say I didn’t try.”

And with that, she leaves him to the darkness. To the cold. To being alone again.

Despite his efforts…he misses the sun. He misses the light and the warmth and the fun and the feeling of being accepted and wanted. He misses Eleanor.


	3. The Burden of Leadership

A large wheel is propped up at the front of the stage, each with a panel containing a different word. Scorpions. Spiders. Bees. Bees with Teeth. Lightning. Ice Spears. Nickelback. Whipping. Flesh Tearing. 

“Time to spin the Wheel of Misfortune, Bad Janet.” Shawn instructs. 

After an obligatory slur, the Bad Janet dressed in a black, glittery showgirl outfit does as instructed. The crowd watching cheer out their predictions as they watch the wheel spin, panels clattering against the arrow at the top, slowing down with each second. 

The unlucky ‘contestant’ shivers against the stake in the centre. They’ve wrapped a blindfold around the top of his head so he doesn’t get to see the result. That would ruin the surprise, after all.

The clacking stops. The crowd laughs.

“Ah! Always a classic. Bring them in, boys.” Shawn strides up to Michael, grabbing him by the jaw and putting his lips to his ear; “You’re gonna go for a nice little swim, you stinking jellyfish. There are some creatures who are just eager to play with you…and they are very, very hungry. And horny. And electrified.”

Laughter ripples through the crowd again as a broken whimper escapes through the constrained lips. His chain is loosened, wrists still bound behind his back. There will be no attempt at ‘swimming’ in the tank that’s brought out.

“Don’t worry, Mike. We made sure to keep the water nice and cold for you. It will be like floating on the sea after the Titanic sunk. And we know how much fun those guys had.” 

Shawn yanks his hair back as he’s moved forward.

“Hold still. I want Bad Janet’s camera to get a good long look at you…We want your filthy humans to see their demon daddy at his best, don’t we.”

Another cringe, a helpless writhe, then he’s pushed forward into the tank.

-

“Turn it off.” Tahani requests, getting to her feet and turning her back to the screen, “Please, I can’t watch anymore.”

Janet does as requested. She’s already seen it all for herself. She hadn’t intended on showing the others, hoping what she described would be enough, but she’d had no choice.

She looks to Jason who’s staring forward, vacantly. Anyone who didn’t know him would think he was completely oblivious to what was going on. But she knows her boyfriend and knows, more than anything, the worry that’s going on behind those blank looking eyes.

Eleanor remains seated on Mindy’s couch, running her hands over her mouth, her skin much paler than it had been a few minutes ago.

“You see now why I have to go back?” Janet tells them; “This has gone on long enough.”

“She’s right.” Tahani doesn’t miss a beat; “I haven’t seen anything that awful happen to someone I cared about since….You know what, I’ve never cared about any famous person more than I do Michael to compare it to!” she wipes a stray tear from her eyes.

Eleanor gets to her feet; “Look, guys, I get it, I do. That wasn’t easy for me to watch either. But…we need to think about this.”

“What is there to think about?” Tahani challenges; “We need to save Michael! You saw what they were doing to him!”

“I know!” Eleanor responds, heatedly; “I wanna save him too but if we just rush in then we’ll be doing exactly what they want! This isn’t like last time when they didn’t know we would find out Janet had been swapped out - they sent us that footage hoping it would bait us into going back there! They want our Janet to reopen the tunnel because I guess their own Bad Janets suck at it.”

Janet watches as their team leader’s fingers twitch as she clearly struggles to remain pragmatic and reasonable against the distressing footage they’ve just witnessed. A part of her admires and respects Eleanor for thinking clearly. And there’s nothing in Janet’s omniscient mind that would question her reasoning. 

Yet, oddly enough, she wants to say ‘fork that’ and get…angry. That’s new.

“I hate to be the one to say it but we’re doing so well and they know this! They’re trying to sabotage us again by having us risk ourselves going back there, which is the last thing Michael would want.”

Jason finally pipes up; “I dunno, I think being pushed into a tank filled with giant electric piranhas, might not be what Michael wants either.”

It’s almost impossible for Jason to sound sarcastic, but Janet senses an undertone of it beneath his usual vague tone.

“Look….Michael knew the risks when he chose to stay behind, he told you guys to get out safe and not to reset…We would be making his sacrifice for nothing if we threw our progress away now…”

“How can you be so cold? He’s our friend!” Tahani stares at her.

“And I was the first one who wanted to go back for him when I saw he wasn’t on that handcart, remember?!” Eleanor snaps back, “Janet was the one who said to wait it out, in case he escaped!”

“I was wrong.”

Everyone goes quiet, their eyes turning to fix on her. She clenches her thumb tight in front of her dress.

“I’ve never been wrong about anything before…I didn’t think it was possible. But I was wrong about that.” Janet admits, her lip wobbling; “I thought they would just do what they did to me for all those months, lock me in a cell and have me watch Vicky’s bad rehearsals. I never thought they would…I hoped that Michael would…”

Jason gets up and quietly moves over, putting his arms around her. She puts her hand to his back, not having realised how badly she needed a hug right now.

“It was easier not knowing…Horrible but, you’re right…Now I can’t stop picturing what they’ve been doing to him. Poor Michael. He looked so…” Tahani’s fingers touch her hcest.

Small. Scared. Weak.

Alone.

“We only have a few months left. He’s lasted this long, if we can just bear through-.” Eleanor tries.

“No.” Janet responds.

She’s not used to saying that word.

Eleanor looks at her, sympathetically; “Babe, I know it’s hard, trust me-.” She tries to reach other to touch Janet’s wrist.

She moves back.

“No, Eleanor. I don’t think you have any idea how hard it is.”

“Oh, really? You don’t think that I’ve had to make sacrifices recently? Did you forget what I had to give up…What Chidi had to-?”

“Chidi gets to walk around in the fresh air, he gets to teach and do the things he loves, with only the mild anxious torture. You get to watch over him and make sure he’s safe and know that in a few months, he’ll remember you again.” Janet points out, “Michael is _suffering_. Every second he stays down there…and you know, as well as I do, Eleanor, what a baby he can be just getting a hangnail. He did that…to save me. To help us! And you just want to leave him there?!”

Eleanor exhales, looking a little knocked back. It’s about time someone knocked her out of the tunnel vision she’s locked herself in since this started.

“Of course not.” She replies, voice breaking; “I’m just not sure-.”

“He loves you.”

Eleanor stops. Her mouth opens, wordless. 

“You know it already, don’t you? You must know, you’re not an idiot.” Janet tells her, “He loves all of you so forking much…If you don’t know that, I might need to check you didn’t suffer some sort of aneurysm when he gave your memories back, because I saw it all. I watched him start to grow tired of torturing you all. I watched him have to fake looking ecstatic when Shawn said he was being promoted and then, as soon as he was free too, have a freak out at the idea of having to betray you all. I watched him collect all the mementos he has of his time with you guys. I’ve listened him talk for hours about how he adores you all…”

Tahani and Jason both look solemn. Janet’s eyes focus on Eleanor.

“I watched him cling to your ticker tape for over a year. Never sleeping, never stopping…You were all he cared about in the Universe and was prepared to risk everything to save you all. And he’s never once asked for anything in return…He sure as There wouldn’t ask you to save him now. That’s why we should.” Janet rouses, “Jason told me about what happened that night before I got rescued. Michael did so much for you all and you were willing to risk losing him over a lie.”

“It wasn’t like that-.” Eleanor winces with guilt.

“He’s _never_ stopped believing in any of you guys since he changed.” Janet cuts in, “And he’d literally jump into fire to save any of you! But you’re not willing to do the same for him? Damn…you humans. I’m starting to get why some immortals feel the need to torture you.”

That feels like too much to say. Being angry isn’t fun, it turns out. It almost conflicts enough with her Good nature that she feels ready to melt. No wonder humans say and do stupid things when they’re pissed off.

“Janet…You know what’s at stake here and why we need you-.” Eleanor tries again.

“So we should be willing to let Michael be in pain in order to win?” Tahani interrupts; “I’m sorry, Eleanor, but I’m with Janet on this one. If saving humanity means sacrificing our own then I want no part of it.”

“Oooh, good one.” Jason comments.

“Thank you.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes. Janet can see how torn up she is right now. It’s no easy position to be in. But neither is the torture dungeon where one of them is trapped right now.

She takes a step forward, reaching out to touch Eleanor’s arm.

The short human sniffs; “…Why did we have to teach him to be so…. _not_ selfish?!”

“If it helps, I don’t think you did. Michael might have learned ethics and morals from you guys…But that love he has? That…unconditional, reckless, self-sacrificing love? He found that all on his own. It’s easy for me, I was designed to care about humans. But Michael had to fight against every one of his natural, evil impulses to be our friend. You don’t have to love him back after what he did to you for all those years….But you should at least appreciate that.”

The humans have no words. So much for Janet’s not being one for speeches. But then she’s no ordinary Janet.

Enough chit-chatting. That’s just another few minutes Michael has had to suffer.

“You guys have shown you can run the neighbourhood with just Derek. You can do it again. I’m going to rescue my friend…my oldest, my truest, most loyal friend…” She repeats the words he said to her; “…Because I do love him.”

To love a demon, something else that seems to go against her natural instinct, as she feels her essence fizzle a little. Worth it.


	4. An Epic Fail

_He hates to pull away from Tahani’s embrace, from the softness of her luxurious hair against his cheek. Her lip wobbles as she attempts to smile at him, holding back the smallest of tears pricking her eyes. She can’t bring herself to say anymore parting words, enough air trapped in her throat with worry, so Michael just gives her cheek a brief stroke with his thumb._

_“We’ll be back before you know it. All of us.” He tells her, which may be turn out to be another lie. He hopes not.  
_

_She nods and moves aside to hug Jason. He turns to see Eleanor standing in front of him. He tenses, not really sure he can handle more talk about how badly he screwed up, right when he’s about to go riding into actual Hell._

_“I’m gonna give you one job, okay. Even you should be able to handle that much.” She tells him.  
_

_He nods; “Bring back Janet. You don’t need to tell me-.”_

_“No, that’s Jason’s. Your job is to keep that brave doofus safe…and to make sure you all come back in one piece. I mean it,” She prods her index finger against his chest; “I don’t wanna see a single cut on that skin-suit or you’re on dinner duty for a month.”  
_

_“I’m always the one who gets dinner.”  
_

_“Yeah but…without magic or Janet.”  
_

_He shrugs; “Oh, I’ve been meaning to learn to cook!”_

_“Look, I haven’t had time to think of a suitable threat! So just say ‘Yes, Boss’ and know that I’m gonna be pissed if any of you get hurt down there, got it?” She raises her voice, the hint of uncertainty rearing its head.  
_

_Michael gets it now. He stands up straight; “Yes, Boss.”_

_He tries to reach his arms out to her, only for her to take a step back. His chest aches, hard. Still a little mad then. She doesn’t look it but…_

_“No hugs. Hugs are for goodbye and this isn’t gonna be that. There! That’s my threat! Come back safe or no hug!”  
_

_It’s a pretty lame threat but he pretends to look horrified, all the same._

_“Yes, Boss.”  
_

_-_

Wafts of steam float from his nostrils and the tiny slit in his lips. Everything around him is dark blue, sheets of ice coating every surface. There’s only the dimmest of lighting above, they don’t leave him in complete darkness. It’s enough for him to see how alone he is. It’s enough for him to never want to have to look at snow or ice again in his existence.

It’s enough to hallucinate, to fill the empty stage with figments of his tormented and bored psyche. 

“I gave you one job.” She tells him, stood a metre away.

The first time, he had yanked against his chains, wordlessly begged for salvation. For freedom. He’d been foolish enough to believe it was finally over.

It’s started happening enough now for him to be aware what’s happening.

But there’s still that slight, crushing realism that makes her words as hurtful as ever.

“You couldn’t do the one thing I asked of you? It was bad enough you lumbered me with this job that was supposed to be yours before you chickened out, now you leave me to handle it on my own!” Eleanor snarls at him; “You should have been able to fight them off and escape but look at you…Pathetic, Mikey. You always were. A useless demon and a failed wannabe angel.”

He closes his eyes and bows his head, body jittering against the chill and the bluntness of her words.

It’s not real. She’s not real. She’s not here. She’s safe.

Even if she probably would be saying these things if she were here…It doesn’t matter. It’s not her.

“Maybe Shawn is right. Maybe this is where you’re supposed to be. You betrayed your own kind and then you betrayed us by lying. You’re nothing but a dirty, cowardly traitor. I hope you rot here.”

He’s torn between tearing up and laughing at the almost cliche insults his own mind is creating to throw at him. They’re becoming beyond a joke. He knows full well what he is. The only reason his not-brain is creating these illusions are something to fill the time between Shawn’s torture games.

It’s either that or sit and suffer the cold. He struggles to imagine what being warm…what being _held_ felt like.

Her face hovers before him as if she were kneeling down to find his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about me, bud. Once this is over, Chidi will wake up and I’ll have the person back at my side who I trust…Who I love. Who’s never let me down like you did.” She sneers, resentment in her grey-green eyes piercing into him; “…Don’t flatter yourself by thinking I’ll be missing you.”

When the side door opens, he almost weeps with relief, as it casts away the ghost for a moment. Whatever horrors they have planned for him is preferable to…that.

A shoe moves forward and pressed down on one of the nails in his foot. He yelps, the wounds still feeling raw after all this time…

Fork. He doesn’t want to know how long it’s been.

“I thought you might want to hear some…interesting news, Mike.” Shawn leans to hiss in his ear; “I just got word that someone has lifted the blockade brought down by your Good Janet. Now…I think there’s enough of your teeny mind left in there to work out who might have done that….”

He starts to shake harder, eyes widening.

Shawn’s fingers pinch the back of his neck.

“Looks like our little video bait worked a treat. And now your pretty slave-robot is on her way to try and save you…And she’s gonna be walking right into our trap. We better get it ready, don’t you think?”

Michael tries to open his mouth against the bindings to speak, blocking out the pain of the metal tearing his mouth. He’ll beg. He’ll threaten. He’ll do whatever it takes to-

Something large whacks him over the head and he falls on his side.

“Oh, I’m afraid you won’t be here when she arrives. She’ll be coming here for you, no doubt, but you’re going somewhere were no one apart from myself is ever going to find you again.”

No, no, Janet, please! Don’t come! Stay away!

There’s a snap. Something goes over his head and everything is black.


	5. All Too Easy

This was a glorious day. Victory Day. Maybe he’ll make it a national holiday to commemorate the occasion. Every employee will have a microsecond less work to do than usual. He can be generous like that.

Shawn watches from the stage as a Bad Janet enters, bending the arm of that pesky mutated Good Janet in front of her as she marches her down the steps. Behind them are some generic demon guards who he will have to learn the names of, if only so he can reward them for grabbing a human each between them. The four irritating losers who are behind this whole mess. 

He can’t help but laugh! How stupid can they be to have all come at once? Now there’s no one left to run their ridiculous experiment.

“Good evening, dickweeds!” He greets them cheerily, amused by the defeated looks on all of their faces - though Mendoza looks as gormless as ever; “So glad you could attend the show.”

“Oooh, what show? Is it Shrek the Musical?” Jason asks, lifting his chin up.

The large guard holding him gives his arm a painful tug, making the dumbass yelp like a cat with its tail caught in the door.

“I’m afraid not. But I’ll definitely be keen on making you sing soprano when I have them saw your balls off.” He gloats.

With a wave of his hand, he instructs the guards to walk the four of them forward, up the steps, and then force them to their knees at the front of the stage. The Bad Janet struts to stand next to him and Shawn allows her to give him a low five at his side in celebration.

Not that it took much effort.

“I applaud you for trying. But that really was a pathetic attempt to save Michael. You really thought we wouldn’t have Molotov-proofed the doors after last time?” 

Tahani turns to tut at Jason; “Told you!”

“Well I told you guys it was a trap but none of you listened!” Eleanor hisses.

Oh, this is wonderful. He would be happy to simply lock them in a room and watch them blame and scrap with each other, just as Michael originally intended, rather than all this wholesome chummy crap that ended up happening. How ironic.

“Such a shame that Chidi couldn’t be here to join you all. I guess he’s busy getting all loved up with his fellow nerd Simone, right Eleanor?”

He grins as that hits a nerve and Shellstrop darts forward, looking to go for him, before the guard grabs her hair and yanks her back down.

“Don’t worry. I have to keep my word to the Judge, after all. So I’ll be happy to let the experiment carry on, with Chidi and the others under the ‘safe’ guardianship of my employees wearing your skin suits.” He taunts them, “They won’t even notice you’re gone…especially as they will, literally, be the same skin torn from your bodies!”

“You twisted wanker.” Tahani glares at him, the British brat suddenly baring fangs; “Where is Michael?!”

“Y’know, she’s so right…Michael should be here to watch us slowly slice that fat skin off of them, shouldn’t he.” Bad Janet sways her hips, looking knowingly to Shawn with that glint in her eye; “Want me to go fetch him and give him the front row seat?”

This Bad Janet must not have got the memo.

“Oh I wasn’t foolish enough to have Michael be here. I just needed these filthy rats to think that’s where he was by the video.” He brags, watching the shock quickly drain the anger on their faces into hopelessness; “I had Michael moved a nice, cosy location far, far away. You weren’t even close to getting to him, idiots!”

“FUCK!” Eleanor swears, not even looking as though she can enjoy the opportunity to curse; “I told you all, it was too easy!!”

“No biggie.” Bad Janet rolls her eyes; “I can still stream him the footage to wherever that dingus is, can’t I? I sooo want him to see us cut Tahani’s hair into an uneven bob.”

“No! No! NOOOO!” The wannabe princess screams until the guard gives her a slap.

The Bad Janet has a point though. It wouldn’t be worth torturing Michael’s precious humans unless he was there to watch it, even if the plan with the Michael-suit fell through. Damn Vicky and Glenn both being blown up meant he had no duplicate to use, especially as he forgot to share the design with other skinsuit manufacturers (shut up, Glenn!). 

He’s certain there is very little of Michael’s awareness left after how much they’ve inflicted on him over the past few…well, it was only a handful of months but, thanks to Jeremy Bearimy, he’s endured a lifetimes worth of restraints, freezing, impalement, whipping, electrocuting, bad Adam Sandler movies, and soo much worse. There had been a time when he’d looked into those blue eyes and seen so much raw hatred. Now, whenever he took a glance at his wretch of a former employee, the light was flickering out, as if he’s conscious of nothing except the constant pain and loneliness. 

Just like the humans he adores so much that end up here, where they belong. Because they’re terrible and that’s all that needs to be known. He should have left well enough alone. 

At least now, finally, Shawn gets to have some entertainment.

“You’re right, Bad Janet. Set up a connection to the Tenth Circle, Sector B. I left one Bad Janet on duty there with Nicole who’s currently ‘taking care’ of Michael. And by that I mean making him very miserable.” Just in case the humans are too dumb to get the expression.

Bad Janet texts on her phone, popping another piece of gum.

“Tenth Circle…Sector B….Got it.” She raises her head, an oddly pleasant smile spreading across it, eyes suddenly bright and pleasant; “Thanks for that!”

“What-?”

The not-so-Bad Janet karate chops him in the side of the head and knocks him to the floor. He hears her make a shout, the theatre spinning around him, unable to find his feet quick enough before the humans get to their feet and surround him.

Shawn blinks, rapidly, as they proceed to take out some rope and tie his wrists and ankles together.

“What is the meaning of this?! GUARDS! DON’T JUST STAND THERE! GET THESE STINKING HUMANS OFF OF ME!” He rages, trying his best to break out of their puny hold but they’re, for some reason, freakishly strong.

The Bad Janet continues to smile at him.

“Oh they’re not your guards…and these aren’t the humans. You were being so smug that you didn’t see what’s right in front of you, did you?” She says.

Shawn frowns. What is she talking about?!

He glances up at Tahani leaning over his head, trying to spot the….Oh. Farts.

They’ve fooled him again. That’s no Bad Janet. And these humans have no auras. They don’t even smell! They’re the same as her. They’re…

“Meet my Janet Babies. I produced a bunch more to come with me. We just needed to know where Michael was really being kept and now we do. And I’ve forwarded that to our Team Two so, thanks!”

She gives Shawn a kick in the teeth before her group stand back at her command.

He spits, wriggling, bound and prone on the wooden floor.

The fake Jason stuffs a green stress ball into his mouth to gag him before all of them leave him there, muffled curses being hurled at them, before they lock the door and leave him in the empty theatre. He fucking hates Good Janets!

\---

She likes to use the metal hooks to dig into his flesh and give them a tug, eager to get a reaction out of him despite his near frozen state. Every now and then she’ll manage to hit somewhere extra tender and a whimper will break out of his lips. 

She has a schoolgirl’s giggle.

“This is like ice fishing. And you’re my big piece of frozen shrimp.” She teases him as they sit in the inside of a giant glacier. 

She doesn’t seem to be affected by the code, only wearing a pink slip dress. There’s not even any goosebumps on the arms of her suit.. 

The new one they’ve left with him is one he hasn’t seen before. She seems new to torture, possibly even new to the slim skinsuit she’s been given, still fascinated by the way her own fingers move. The way she caresses his face and sticks her tongue out makes him suspect she’s some kind of giant leech monster. The kind they used to let suck humans brains out with straws. Or cut their skulls open and lick them out like a kid with a bowl of cake mix.

Definitely not a fire squid, whatever she was.

“I bet Shawn’s almost finished making your buddies feel at home here. If you’re really good to me, Mikey…I might ask him to bring you their heads as a treat.” Nicole, as she said was her name, informs him.

He’s beyond attempting to beg for them to be left alone anymore. He’s beyond expecting any sort of mercy.

Everything he had tried for so long….everything he had hoped to avoid.

All of his efforts for the past few years were for nothing.

 _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…_ He thinks as more tiny crystallised tears sting from the corners of his eyes.

A loud bang outside makes him start.

Nicole turns to the Bad Janet at the door; “What was that? Go check on it, will you!” she orders like a spoiled brat to her butler.

The Bad Janet rolls her eyes, flipping the bird and then doing as she’s told.

Nicole turns back to kneel in front of Michael.

He tries to escape into his hallucinations but she wants his focus on her. Her hand grips his cheek and squeezes tight.

“I dunno what you did to get the Boss to hate you so much, I don’t really give a toss about current affairs…But m’just glad I get this as my first job! Punishing a dirty traitor…” She runs the tip of an ice pick up his face, towards his nostril; “…And all the other dirty things I hear about you…My mate Kath said you had the hots for one of them humans…You creeps should keep that fetish on the internet where it belongs! Look where it’s got you now…”

She takes a small hammer out from her pocket and puts it to the bottom of the ice pick, shoving it up Michael’s nose.

“I wish you had a brain in there so this could get the same effect it does with those creatures…But the simulation is good enough.”

He wishes he could laugh through the binding in his lips. He wishes that her wish could come true. Give him a lobotomy? Take away his memories of constant failure? Make him oblivious to how he’d loved for nothing and lost everything? She would be doing him the greatest favour.

As it is, he’ll just sit there and take the pain of a nail through his fake skull. He’ll let her have her fix until she gets her reprieve and he’s left alone to his own personal inner torment. His guilt. His regrets.

_Just let go, Michael. Just…forget._

Nicole leans in close, ready to fiercely tap; “Hold still. This will only hurt a-.”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her taunting before her skin suit explodes, sending a wave of pink goo across Michael’s face. 

He blinks. Something happened.

The ice pick and the hammer clatter to the floor.

_Wha…_

Eleanor Shellstrop stands at the door, clutching a Bad Janet marble in one hand, pointing Janet’s demon exploder in the other. 


	6. The Queen's Gambit

_“Okay. If you’re gonna do this. You need to have a plan.”_

_-_

Eleanor closes the door to Michael’s office. Funny, she still thinks of it as his, even when she’s spent more time occupying it alone so far this year. She tries to avoid being here alone. It’s far too painful to sit in the big chair and watch the door, wishing with all her heart that the dumb demon will waltz back in, safe and sound, at any moment.

She walks across the room and around the desk. His jacket is still thrown over the back of the chair from when he quickly got changed between Mindy’s and the train station. The stains from Glenn’s goo seem to have evaporated. 

There’s a tug in her chest as she strokes the fabric.

-

_“I have a plan! I’m gonna lift the barricade up, disguise myself as a Bad Janet, go in, find Michael and get him out. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Fun fact, a man named John White invented the lemon squeezer because they’re not easy to squeeze at all-.”_

_“Okay, no, that plan sucks. It’s exactly what they’ll expect because it’s what you already did. You can’t go in there on your own.”  
_

_Janet frowns; “Are you going to suggest you guys come too? Because as you said, that’s the last thing Michael would want, for you guys to be put in danger. I’m not mortal, the threat to my wellbeing is less of a risk, and you can always ask the Judge for a reset in the event of a second capture.”_

_“I wasn’t going to suggest that…But we’re not your only option.” Eleanor says, looking over to Derek in the corner, licking a light bulb like a popsicle._

_-_

Her hands pick the jacket up. She holds it close to her front, inhaling the scent in the collar. That strange smell she always picked up whenever near to Michael, like something out of an old attic and yet sweeter than chocolate and warm like a nearby bonfire tickles her nose.

Fingers curl tightly into the grey wool. She doesn’t want this to be the most she has left of him anymore. She wants him back.

The doofus had one job to do for her and he couldn’t…

Eleanor sighs and slips her arms into the jacket before taking a seat in the chair. It’s far too big for her, almost like an overcoat or a bathrobe. She wraps it tight around her frame as she slumps back in the seat. Something about wearing it makes her feel as if he’s there, the same reason why she always takes one of Chidi’s sweaters to bed with her, like a needy kid with a security blanket.

All her life she secretly dreamed of having at least one person to truly love her. Then two come along at once and they both end up sacrificing themselves. 

Couldn’t she have fallen in love with someone as selfish as her?

“Hey Eleanor.” Janet bings in front of the desk.

She jumps, starting a little, pulling her face out of the collar she had been close to crying into.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” She hurriedly covers, sitting up straight, attempting some semblance of dignity; “W-what’s up?”

“I’ve finished making enough Janet babies I need to take with me. They’re all boarded on the train, including the clones of you guys. Even I gotta say, they’re pretty creepy. But great idea!” 

Eleanor just nods, fingers tapping the desk. If she couldn’t come with Janet on the rescue mission then the best she could do was lend her strategic skills. 

“And the demon exploders?” Thanks for that, Bad Janet.

“I think I was able to improve on the design after examining the one Michael handed to me before he…” She cuts herself off, “We’ll be fine, Eleanor. I made quite a few in case they rumble us.”

“If you have to, be sure to burst a few for me, won’t you.” She tells her sexy not-robot friend; “And please…be safe, babe.”

And bring him back, she doesn’t say, almost as if it was asking too much.

It doesn’t need saying. 

“We’ll be back before you know it. Literally, because you won’t be alerted of my train coming in with me gone and Derek’s sensor is busted.”

She bings out of the room. Eleanor sits back again, arms wrapped around herself and the jacket. Now she’s back to where she was a few months ago, wishing for her friends safe return, while the fate of humanity hangs in the balance. She has no choice. She has to stay. Put the experiment first. It’s what Michael and Chidi both sacrificed themselves for. It would be insulting them if she were to make it all for nothing.

-

It must be a trick.

They’ve got bored of the freezing and the hooks and the violent fish. Now they wanna screw up his head. He already hallucinates, isn’t that enough? He would normally think this was just another one of those but…Nicole’s goo drips from his nose. Yep, she definitely blew up.

And there, almost a yard behind her, is….the Impossible.

Eleanor stands with Bad Janet’s demon exploder clutched in her hand, arms straightened in front of her, blue goo from other demons staining her red sweater and the black leather jacket he hasn’t seen her wear in a while. _Sneaky little so-and-so._ Did she really come all the way down here, shooting her way through immortal guards, to…rescue…him…?

He would laugh, if the wave of exhaustion wasn’t crushing him down, as well as the wires in his mouth. It’s too much. He’s held out for far too long and now his mind has snapped. 

Don’t fall for it, Mike. Don’t give them the satisfaction of hoping.

She wanted him gone. Out of her hair for good. She wanted him to-

His body goes slack in his ice chains as the underworld goes dark.

-

_He loves you._

He lied.

_He loves you._

He tortured them for centuries and lied about it, over eight hundred times.

_He loves you._

He didn’t trust her enough to say what he really was underneath the suit. He thought she was shallow enough to not want to be friends with him after finding out he’s some giant flaming squid. He was supposed to be her best friend! Did he think so little of her? After all those weeks of supporting her, encouraging her, giving her a shoulder to cry on, followed by a gentle kick up the ash to get her shirt together?

And as if she was going to be all soft and reassure him of how much he meant to her after the crab he put her through that night. He expected her to be the one to apologise!?

_He loves you._

_You must know that. You’re not an idiot._

Oh…the stupid demon loves her enough to disobey her one order and not come back safe! The stupid demon offers to blow himself up in order to give her peace of mind when she doesn’t trust him and leave her in charge of this shirt show on her own. The dumb, reckless ash-hole stayed behind to be tortured, again, for their sakes…Not for the first time. 

Fork. She is an idiot!

Eleanor shrugs off the jacket and grabs her own leather one off the back of the door. She has a train to catch.

-

Damn it, why didn’t she take a better coat with her? Or a scarf? Or gloves?

The chamber she discovers Michael in is like a huge igloo. Every surface seems to be made of ice except, thank Kim, the floor, or else she’d be falling flat on her ass as soon as she strode in after taking out the slutty demoness who had been messing with Michael. Eleanor steels herself, braving the cold and letting the adrenaline warm her up after having snuck her way down here, taking out a few necessary obstacles on the way with her new favorite toy.

Her heart beats terribly fast as she spots Michael chained up, pale as a ghost, slumped in the shackles they’ve put him in. His clothes are ragged and torn up, the wounds from where he’s been recently cut and sliced and scalded all too evident to the naked eye.

“Michael…!” She breathes his name as she reaches him, finding no response as his head rolls forward; “Michael, I’m here! Wake up!”

She puts her hands to his chin and tries to lift it up, cringing at the awful sight of what they’ve done to his mouth. Jesus! 

Digging around in what remains of the slutty demon’s goo and dress fragments, she eventually finds the key to the shackles. She fumbles with it in the locks as she works to set him free. 

As she works to open the second one, she drops it. Fuck! Get it together, Shellstrop! They could come in at any moment!

She scoops it up and turns it in the blisteringly cold metal. 

Michael tumbles to the ground in a heap of long limbs.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Eleanor curses as she fails to catch up, the dumb tree too much for her to attempt to lift upright on her own. She kneels over him; “Dude, c’mon! Come on, get up! Michael!”

Her fingers brush against his cheek and-

“FUCK!” She curses, pulling her hand back.

He’s almost too cold to touch. There’s flecks of snow on his eyelashes and in his white hair, lines on his face deeper than she remembers, skin sunken in, littered with black and purple marks. 

Eleanor places one hand on his back, the other on his chest, just barely able to keep hold of him with the remnants of his shirt beneath her palms.

She wishes she could feel his heartbeat, if he had one.

Just some sign, anything, anything at all…that he’s going to open his eyes again. That she wasn’t too late.

“Michael, you need to get up! You can’t bail on me now, please, not after I finally got here! You gotta come home, dude….I can’t do this without you. Just wake the fuck up before-.” Her teeth start to chatter as she hears footsteps racing from outside.

Someone’s coming. More guards? The Janet baby army? A couple were lost on the way, marbleised, before Eleanor was able to zap the guards. Then she had to abandon the rest in order to get to the location Janet sent over the intercom to one of her baby’s, Ralfio’s, mouth. 

Eleanor has no idea what’s about to come through that door. Friend or foe. Janet(s) or demons. 

She’s not giving up now.

Keeping hold of Michael on her lap, she sets her jaw, getting out the demon exploder from her jacket pocket, firing it up.

“I won’t let them touch you, bud. Not again.” She whispers, clutching his lifeless skinsuit close to her front; “That’s a promise.”

Her hand is steady around the weapon, her eyes glaring with hellfire at the entrance. She forgets about the cold.

_Just try to take him away from me again, demon scum. Just try it._

__

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration by the wonderful @star-pepper.tumblr.com again!


End file.
